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THE GOD OF BATTLES 

AND OTHER VERSES 



BY 
AMBROSE LEO McGREEVY 




BOSTON 

SHERMAN, FRENCH & COMPANY 

1915 



TS3^'^ t 



3* 






Copyright, 1915 
Sherman, French 6> Company 

JUN 19 1915 
©CI.A406378 



TO 
MY MOTHER 



FOREWORD 

In solemn splendor round its arch, 

Aslant on men about to die, 
The lonely Sun in stately march 
Moves on in glory through the sky. 

Where men their battle-flags unfurl 

To devastate, to slay and kill, 
Where all the blood-red eddies swirl, 
That same Sun flings its lustre still. 

Though countless bloody wars have been 

Where'er that Sun its radiance cast, 
The like of this was never seen 
Through all the many ages past. 

But spite of war and plot and plan 

That wraps this world in throes of hell, 
I've written for the mind of man 

The thoughts my soul has yearned to tell. 

You whose hearts may often yearn 

For freedom from all care, 
You whose ready minds would turn 

From fields of blood the nations dare, — 
For you have I moulded my verse; 

For you have I garnered my time; 
For you do I often rehearse 

That ye may find joy in my rhyme. 

Lovers of justice and peace, 

Men of my native land, 
Blest with a holy surcease 

Of war's most hideous hand, — 
These my songs are for you, 
You who dwell in content; 
With care I've tried to be true, 
With care my message is sent. 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The God of Battles 1 

The Paths of Glory 3 

The Bugle Call 5 

The Struggle 6 

In Belgium by the Sea 7 

To the United States of America ... 9 
Ballad of the Schoolmaster . . . .11 

The Sequence 14 

The Song of the Age 15 

If Your Sins Be as Red as Scarlet . . 19 

The Metamorphosis of a Pal .... 20 

Star of Memory 24 

In Chatfield Town 27 

Within the Town of Baltimore ... 29 

Going Home 31 

The Heart of Man 32 

The Boy 33 

Spirit of the Rockies 34 

In the Forest of the Mountains ... 36 

Arise ! The Day is Dawning .... 38 

False Gods 40 

A First Love 42 

The Coil of the Serpent 43 

The Destroyers 46 

Adversity 49 

In the Beginning 51 

The Triangle 53 

What Thinkest Thou? 56 

Meditation 58 



THE GOD OF BATTLES 

For two-score years and ten, God of Battles ! 

Thy people lived like men, God of Battles ! 
— Freed from clashing — sweet surcease — 
Till we thought the world had lease 
On the holy rights of peace, 
God of Battles ! 

The nations dwelt in awe, God of Battles ! 

Of Thy stern and rigid law, God of Battles ! 
And though girded for the fight, 
Still they feared the dreadful sight 
Of the spread of martial blight, 
God of Battles ! 

So they lived in dread, God of Battles ! 

Of the hated hoof and tread, God of Battles ! 
Waiting, fearing for the hour, 
Trembling all — yet loath to cower 
In the nations' fight for power, 
God of Battles ! 

And now the war has come, God of Battles ! 
Cannon mouths no longer dumb, God of Battles ! 

Clank of arms and clash of steel, 

Shriek of shell and thunder peal 

To us the awful truth reveal, 
God of Battles ! 



[1] 



In Thee we place our trust, God of Battles ! 
For we know that Thou art just, God of Bat- 
tles! 
Lend us still Thy guiding hand, 
Whether on our native strand, 
Or a-march on foreign land, 
God of Battles ! 

To Thee we lift our eyes, God of Battles ! 
Hoping Thou wilt hear our sighs, God of Bat- 
tles! 
Praying Thee to rid us well 
From the terrors of battel, 
Terrors that are worse than hell, 
God of Battles ! 

Let the awful slaughter cease, God of Battles ! 
In Thy goodness grant us peace, God of Bat- 
tles! 
Back again to realms of light, 
Where the ruling power is right, 
Lead us gently by Thy might, 
God of Battles ! 

We are wearied of the strife, God of Battles ! 

Wearied of the loss of life, God of Battles ! 
Let the old love rule the world, 
Let the battle-flag be furled 
Where the blood-red eddies swirled, 
God of Battles ! 

[2] 



THE PATHS OF GLORY 

Now are the gates of right let down 

While might and power rule, 
And nations war on state and town 

With living flesh their tool. 

We hear the call of beast to beast 

As Christians meet in slaughter, 
In rank and file from west to east, 

On land and on the water. 

The armies move in phalanx fast, — 

It's just the same old story 
As told by men through ages past, 

And called the paths of glory. 

With engines of death and hurried tread 
They meet in the valley of fear; 

Armed to the teeth, with never a dread, 
The horrible hosts draw near. 

The clank of steel, the trumpet blast, 
The charge on charge so fierce, — 

For men must fight, the die is cast, 
And men must bullets pierce. 

The grave in the field, the helpless at home, — 
The weak, the infirm, and the hoary, — 

For few are there left of the millions to roam 
Back from the paths of glory. 
[3] 



And this is the tale we are told again, — 

It's just the same old story, — 
Of the heat of the fight, and the grit of the men 

Down on the paths of glory. 

Gone are the lives God gave them to keep, 

On those fields all red and gory, 
And now forever they shall sleep 

Down on the paths of glory. 

Harried by the awful sight, 

Tired of the story, 
How men meet and how men fight 

On the paths of glory : 

Sickened at the fearful fray, 

Wearied of the battle, 
Hoping for a God to stay 

The dreadful musket rattle: 

In anguish, Lord, we turn to Thee 

And humbly ask surcease 
From hell of war on land and sea, 

And grant us lasting peace. 



[4] 



THE BUGLE CALL 

O Bertha, dear ! I hear the bugle calling ! 

And I must leave thee, hard as it may seem, 
For the awful land where battle clouds are roll- 
ing 

And thousands sink in death's eternal dream. 

The enemy has sworn against our nation ! 

Again I hear the hated hoof and tread ! 
And I am bound in honor to my station 

At the front, beneath the cannonading dread. 

Heart! Sweetheart! Of thee I'll still be 

dreaming 
In the camp and in the hurried battle dash, 
Where our nation's flag in freedom shall be 

streaming 
'Mid the cannon smoke and thunder of the 

clash. 

And when the haughty foe shall sound retreat, 
And sea and land no more incarnadine, 

1 hope, Sweetheart, that we again shall meet 
At home beneath the clinging-ivy vine. 

Then farewell, Bertha dear! The bugle's call- 
ing* 
And I must leave thee, hard as it may seem, 
For the awful land where battle clouds are roll- 
ing 
And thousands sink in death's eternal dream. 
[5] 



THE STRUGGLE 

In the whirl of kings' ambitions 

That speak of pomp and power, 
The nations rise like giants, 

For fate has knelled the hour 
When men must move in armies 

O'er fields all red and gory, 
To slay and kill their fellowman, — 

And call it paths of glory. 

I see a million men and more 

Go by in measured tread, 
To fight where countless thousands 

Shall muster with the dead. 
Again I hear the battle-roar, — 

Oft told in song and story, — 
Where armed men in conflict meet 

Upon the paths of glory. 

We know not, Lord, whom we should blame 

For war's unholy work, 
But Thou, we know, art still the same, 

And we should ne'er Thy mandates shirk. 
" Thou shalt not kill," was said of old, — 

So runs Thy life's sweet story, — 
And war is wrong, though nations bold 

Clash on the paths of glory. 



[6] 



IN BELGIUM BY THE SEA 

In Belgium by the sea 
Where nations disagree, 
Millions meet for slaughter! 
Blood! It flows like running water 
In Belgium by the sea 
Where nations disagree ! 

See the millions ! How they muster ! 
Round their leaders still they cluster 
Like the fiends of hell consulting, 
In satanic brawl exulting! 
See the millions ! How they muster ! 
Round their leaders still they cluster! 

Rifle crack and cannon thunder 
Rend the peaceful sky asunder! 
Bayonet charge and clash of sabre 
Face to face in hellish labor! 
Rifle crack and cannon thunder 
Rend the peaceful sky asunder! 

See the rotting corpse a-yonder, 
While this hell-on-earth ye ponder ! 
Reeking forms and stench of death 
Breathe ye in with every breath ! 
See the rotting corpse a-yonder, 
While this hell-on-earth ye ponder ! 

[7] 



Of the horror, fear, and terror 
Words can never be the bearer ! 
Hated scenes, begot of hell, 
Human tongue can never tell ! 
Of the horror fear and terror 
Words can never be the bearer ! 

Would that the Lord 
Might shatter the sword! 
Would that grim war 
We should see nevermore! 
Would that the Lord 
Might shatter the sword! 



[8] 



TO THE UNITED STATES OF 
AMERICA 

(Respectfully dedicated) 

The nations lost their dignity 
In heated furor of the time — 
To heights of power they would climb, 

While thou art in benignity. 

The jealous eye, the envious thought, 
Have moved the nations on to war, 
Lo ! bursts aloud the cannon's roar, 

For might and power they have sought. 

But thou, my own United States, 

Hast held the pace and kept thy head 
Though mourning for the lost and dead, 

So tranquil 'mid thy hills and lakes. 

Thou guardest well the public weal 
In spite of scheme and plot and plan 
Attempted by the hand of man, 

While on the Truth is fixed thy seal. 

Thy people live in glory still, 

While millions move in armies vast 
'Mid thunder roar and battle blast, 

For peace has ever been thy will. 



[9] 



Still blest are we in those who hold 
The reins of power in the land ; 
Who by the Truth in glory stand 

With courage seldom ever told. 

Then haste, true nation, on thy way, 
And heed no coward's sneer or frown, 
For thou art given to wear the crown 

Of glory in a brighter day. 



[10] 



BALLAD OF THE SCHOOLMASTER 

No captain of commerce, 

Nor builder am I 
Of structures in matter 

That reach to the sky. 

No call of genius 

Ambitions me on 
To fame and fortune 

Where others have gone; 

Nor rapt me and thrilled me 

And signaled to me 
The hint of success 

From life's stormy sea. 

The world with its glitter 

Might offer me more, 
Did I only forsake 

Mediocrity's shore. 

I'm only a schoolmaster 

Hidden to fame; 
The world never even 

Heard tell of my name. 

I sing this mean song 

For amusement of men, 
To tell of a life 

Beyond their own ken. 
[11] 



My role is not one 

Enticing to man 
Who seeks only fame 

Wherever he can, 

For I'm not a leader 

Nor star on the stage 
Of life, where all men 

Must work for a wage. 

My part is obscure 

And removed from the crowd, 
Which never appeals 

To the lofty and proud. 

Obscure though my life, 
Unknown though my name, 

I start not a few 

On the pathway to fame. 

Then give me your sons 
While I fashion and form 

Their hearts and their minds 
To brave every storm. 

I'll make them all men 

Though it costs my whole life, 
And men they shall be 

In the midst of the strife. 

[12] 



O God, what a life ! 

To make but one man 
Like unto Thee 

The best that I can ! 

Then fame shall not tempt me 

Nor call me away, 
But at this great work 

To the end I shall stay, 

While comfort and solace 
Alone shall be sought, 

In thought of the men 

Whom erstwhile I taught. 



[13] 



THE SEQUENCE 

He 
Give me a word to rhyme with hope, 

And I shall build for thee 
A castle of love that's able to cope 

With every gale on life's stormy sea. 

She 
Give me a word to rhyme with faith 

And of myself I'll make 
A temple firm, with love's bright wreath 

Entwined thereon for thine own sake. 

They 
Give us a word to rhyme with love, 

And free we'll be from strife, 
While blest with smiles from God above 

We'll go hand in hand through life. 

Satan 
Give me a word to rhyme with doubt, 

And a hell their life I'll make; 
Their love's young dreams I'll put to rout 

And their plighted troth I'll break. 



[14] 



THE SONG OF THE AGE 

A youth there stood at the break of day 

And gazed on fields afar, 
Where he read by the light of the morning ray 

The promise of things that are. 
He had just set forth from the scenes of a child 

And sought for the things of a man, 
While the flimsy flights of his fancies wild 

In the paths of the dreamers ran. 

Poorly girt for the combat, 

Fresh from environs of home, 
Not taking the world as he found it, 

But longing with strangers to roam, — 
He stood in doubt at the threshold 

Where the actors must enter the stage, 
And hearkened to that song of old, 

The siren song of the age. 

Sung with allurements of Satan, 

Strong with the power to charm 
Till the will of the hearer was beaten 

And the victim was buried in harm. 
This is the song that was sung to him 

At the dawn of his manhood's might, 
That made the laws of his code grow dim 

And led him from paths of right. 



[15] 



" Abandon your traditions old ! 

Be up and on with the tide 
That sweeps one out to deeds untold, 

And I will be your guide! 
Fear not, for I bring a newer life 

To the actors on the stage, 
And all the world with dancing's rife 

While I sing the song of the age! 

" Dancing, drinking, and dreaming, — 

Women and cards and song! 
Pleasures and passions are streaming 

Down the avenues of wrong ! — 
Cast aside your old worn creed, 

And never your passions gauge, 
But seek only joy in the present deed 

And sing the song of the age! 

" Long ye have lived in the far dead past, 

Ye have knelt to the God of Fear : 
Now come with me and give what thou hast 

To the God of Pleasure so near ! — 
Heed not the words of the worn and old, 

The wretched, the low, the uncouth; 
Follow me on ; be brave and be bold ; 

For I sing but the song of thy youth ! 



[16] 



" And the song of thy youth is the song of the 
age 

Wherein only dreamers live ; 
Then dream your dreams on the world's wide 
stage 

And the best that is in ye give 
To Matter, the only God of Things, 

The power that rules the world 
Where the wise man ever my sweet song sings 

'Neath the flag of the age unfurled ! " 

And this was the song the young man heard, — 

The siren song of the age, — 
The which he pondered word for word 

As he entered the world's great stage, 
Pondered o'er, and chose his role 

And played his part for a while, 
But failed to reach the promised goal 

In his march down pleasure's aisle. 

The tale of his life I need not repeat, 

'Tis one of abasement and shame, 
Flung back with a curse from the judgment seat 

Where boots nor fortune nor fame. 
He's only one of the millions lost 

Through hearing the siren song; 
His troubled soul on the breakers was tossed 

With those of the countless throng. 



[17] 



Then close up the book of his unfinished task; 

There's another lost soul to inscribe. 
The Devil grins 'neath his Devil's Mask, 

As he rules his hellish tribe. 
Another heart has been hurled to hell 

To fret on its stage for aye; 
From weakness of will he was caught in the 

spell 
Of the siren song of To-day. 



[18] 



IF YOUR SINS BE AS RED AS SCARLET 

" If your sins be as red as scarlet, 
I will make them whiter than snow," 

Said the writer by God inspired 
To our fathers long ago ; 

And that same God of mercy 

Sent His only begotten Son 
That the souls of men unnumbered 

Might from death be won; 

While those to sin addicted, 

Entwined by the Serpent's coils, 

Shall in His grace find freedom 
From Satan's terrible toils. 

His life was a boon to sinners ; 

He moved among men of this world, 
And preached His lofty ideals — 

His Gospel banner unfurled. 

Son of God and God also, 

Christ, the anointed of old, 
Slain by the sins of the millions, 

For paltry silver sold: 

We know it was Thou who said it 

To our fathers long ago, — 
" If your sins be as red as scarlet, 

I will make them more white than snow." 
[19] 



THE METAMORPHOSIS OF A PAL 

His name was Timmy Ronan: he was just a 
pal of mine 
In the home town way out west among the hills, 
Where we used to spend our time running round 

with hook and line 
When we went so blythe, a-fishing in the rills. 

Two barefoot boys we were, together round 

the town, 
In the summer when the days were long and 

fair. 
I was much like Tim in action, and Tim was like 

a clown, 
And our antics often made the good folks stare. 
Oh, those days away out west, where the folks 

were of the best 
That I've ever seen since eastward I have come, 
Where they'd work throughout the day, and at 

evening take their rest, 
Far removed from dissipation's city-slum. 

Ah, well do I remember the day I left the town 
For the east, and all the big things I would do, 
How my little saddened Timmy wore upon his 

face a frown 
As he walked me to the train about to go. 
Then a hand-clasp and a grunt, and I left him 
there behind, 

[20] 



All alone beneath the home town's old train 

shed, 
With the hope down in my breast that another 

pal I'd find 
Who would help me in the race to go ahead. 

But the course was long and fast, and I often 

lost the pace, 
When the morals of my hometown training 

stood 
In the way of wanton beckoning, to check me in 

the race, 
When by smothering my conscience I could have 

it if I would. 
But by patience and endeavor I landed at the 

top 
With the good things of success at my com- 
mand, 
While the past associations from my mind began 

to drop 
As with the men of grit I took my stand. 

It was just the other day, as I wandered down 
the street 
That leads one to the wharf beside the sea, 
When a-coming with the wind whom should I 

hap to meet 
But my Timmy pal, a-staring still at me. 
He was dirty, coarse and awful ; he was ragged 
and half drunk; 
[21] 



And of all the things I've seen he was a " sight," 
For as he came up near, his reeking breath 

it stunk — 
Fell symptom of a youth's untimely blight. 

As I took him by the hand, I could see the 

flush of shame 
A-spreading o'er the face I knew so well, 
And I tried to make him think that things were 

just the same 
As when we ran, two boys, through hill and dell. 
But with laboring and effort he told to me his 

tale 
Of how he'd left the home town long ago, 
How he'd traveled through the land on foot 

— perchance by rail — 
And companions led him into ways of woe. 

So I offered him my aid if he'd only stay 

around, 
But he couldn't stay, he just the same as said, 
For he had the roving fever and to stranger 

scenes was bound; 
And as to past relations, he might just as well 

be dead. 
Then he left me there alone, and he sadly went 

his way 
With a choking in his throat that I could see; 



[22] 



Bound for God knows only where, I'm sure I 

couldn't say, 
For the only thing he left me was a saddened 

memory. 

Though he's gone from out my life, I hope 

we'll meet again 
On that farther shore where life is sweet and 

true, 
And my little Timmy pal once again will mix 

with men, 
With forgetfulness of all that's drear and blue. 
I hope it shall be so, for we'll be boys together 

then, 
Just as we were back home in days of yore, 
And with boyhood's sweet abandon we'll just be 

pals again 
To play forever on the eternal shore. 



[23] 



STAR OF MEMORY 

Through the dark night 

Alone I went, 
While with deep sorrow 

My soul was bent, 

When from the inky black 
Flashed there a star, 

Just like a messenger 
Come from afar. 

Glittering, glimmering, 
It shone so bright; 

Glowing and shimmering, 
It dazzled my sight, 

Calling me back again 
From black despair, 

Lighting me onward 
With heavenly glare. 

Back from despondency 

This ray divine 
Happily called me 

To things sublime; 

Singing sweet solace 
And cheering me on 

With sweetest comfort 
Till my grief was gone. 
[24] 



What was this ray of hope 

Sent from afar, 
Flashed through the night to me 

Just like a star? 

Was it a memory 

Come through the years, 
Vivid and forceful, 

Dispelling my fears? 

Was it a messenger 

Come from on high, 
Bearing most sweetly 

Response to my sigh? 

It was remembrance 

Of one most dear, 
With words she uttered 

When she was near. 

Words of a mother 

To her lonely son, 
Guiding him onward 

Till his work is done. 

As garnered treasure 

They are to me, 
Come in with the tide 

From memory's sea, 

[25] 



Bringing me courage 

When most in need; 
Aiding my will 

In each virtuous deed. 

Now I am strong; 

Dispelled are my fears ; 
Hope shall abide with me 

Through the long years. 

Though dark the night may be, 

Still from afar 
It shall be flashed to me 

Just like a star. 



[26] 



IN CHATFIELD TOWN 

In Chatfield Town in Southern Minnesota, 
Where the farmers come to sell their hogs and 
grain, 
There's a lad I know, both good and true by 
nature, 
And to him I dedicate this brief refrain. 

Born and bred out there 'mid the waving corn- 
fields, 

He never had a yearning for the town, 
For he'd rather be a farmer in the country 

Than become a mighty man of great renown. 

He'd rather ride a binder than a Packard 
And spend his life a-tilling of the soil 

Than be mixed up with the din and roar of cities 
And pass his years in dreary drudge and toil. 

So when his father sent him off to college 
To get a little knowledge in his head, 

He went with heavy heart yet like a soldier 
To be mustered in the army of the dead. 

Back again he came from school, when school was 
over, 
And gladly took his place upon the farm, 
For to him, in spite of glim and glare of city, 
A living in the country bore a charm. 
[27] 



To be a soldier in the army of producers 
He made the end and be-all of his life, 

And thus by giving up what most men cherish 
He won desired freedom without strife. 

It was there in Minnesota that I knew him, 
Where wave the fragrant fields I love the 
best, 

And as I think of him I have a longing 
To be out there to-night just as his guest. 

I know that I'd not find him artificial, 
But just as God intended him to be, 

And to one so awful sick of frill and fashion 
What a healthy and a welcome sight to see! 

And though I cannot be with him this evening, 
I'll drink his health in liquid pure and cold, 

Recall his bright and ever cheering features 
And converse with him on topics as of old. 

Then here's to you, my old-time pal of Chat- 
field, 
The greatest friend I've met on this round 
earth ; 
With joy and pleasant thoughts to-night I 
crown you 
A nobleman in calling and by birth. 



[28] 



WITHIN THE TOWN OF BALTIMORE 

With weary mind and body sore, 
I wandered round from door to door 

To find a friend I knew of yore, 
And ponder o'er forgotten lore 

Within the town of Baltimore. 

From Druid Hill to Chesapeake shore, 
Through crowded street and busy roar, 

All wearied with my hopeless chore, 
I sought in vain this friend of yore 

Within the town of Baltimore: 

And as I passed along, so sore, 

All streaked with dirt and dust galore, 

My heart within me yearned to soar 
To childhood with my friend of yore 

Within the town of Baltimore, 

Till at my heart suspicion tore 
And whispered softly o'er and o'er, 

While to my mind in truth it bore 
That I should see him nevermore 

Within the town of Baltimore. 

From out the past of memory's store, 
A friend he must have known of yore, 

Informed me gently o'er and o'er 
That he is dead forevermore 

Within the town of Baltimore. 
[29] 



So he shall dwell forevermore 

Where disembodied spirits soar, 

And I shall see him nevermore, — 

This friend I knew and loved of yore,- 

Within the town of Baltimore. 



[30] 



GOING HOME 

I love a state of the golden west, 

Oh, Iowa's beautiful plain ! 
Of the lands I have met, to me it's the best, 

And I long to be there again. 

I've wandered far in foreign land, 
I've seen and heard strange things, 

Where countless old traditions stand 
And the voice of history rings. 

I'm going back again to-night 

With never a thought to roam, 
Back again to a grander sight, — 

To the land I call my home. 

It's lying there in the heart of the west 

Where tasseled cornfields blow, 
And soon I'll be its welcome guest 

From its boundaries never to go. 

Oh, is there a thought in the wide, wide 
world? — 

If there is, pray tell me one, — 
Where the spirit of man by God was hurled 

And his earthly course is run, 

That brings more joy to the human heart 
Than the sight of the land of one's birth 

On coming back from foreign mart, 
Back from the ends of the earth? 
[31] 



THE HEART OF MAN 

The human heart was made to love and breathe 
of things divine, 
And men of worth since time began have sel- 
dom crossed the line 
That separates the good from bad and marks 
the love from hate 
But by the light of reason for the good things 
will to wait. 

Hate must have been a spirit come from the 
nether world 
To reek and rot the heart of man here where 
man was hurled, 
For that spirit of the darkness or demon of the 
sea 
Has wrecked the countless souls of men that 
evil will to be. 

Then love is life's salvation, entrancer of the 
soul, 
The leader of the heart of man unto his final 
goal, 
The essence of man's living, the spice of things 
worth while, 
The light dispelling darkness, the bloom that 
knows no guile. 



[32] 



THE BOY 

He was Master Clemmie Bowe, 

And he didn't care to go 
With the proud among the fields of wise pre- 
tense. 

He never tried to soar 
With the great and mighty, for 

He was just a boy. 

As a little lad he came, 

And he spoke to me his name 
While I wandered down the street beside the 
school. 

In his face there was no guile 
For I studied him the while, — 

He was just a boy. 

Perhaps there may be here, 

Thought I while he was near, 
The makings of a man of might and fame. 

I surely hope it's so, 
For I feel it should be, though 

He was just a boy. 



[33] 



SPIRIT OF THE ROCKIES 

I've stood in some lonely valley 

'Mid the mountains of the west; 
I've felt my spirits rally 

To see nature at its best. 
I've watched the glistening snow peaks 

Glaring out beneath the sun, 
And heard the tale the wind shrieks 

Down its drear and lonely run. 

I've felt the solemn spirit of the wild 

Seize and grasp me in its mighty clutch, 
Helpless, silent, spellbound as a child, 

When I stood within the Rockies' magic 
touch. 
Rock-ribbed giants older than our history, 

Tales so wild and weird could ye not tell ; 
Tranquil, silent, dumb, within your mystery, 

Enraptured, awed, I stand beneath your spell. 

For ages ye arose to meet the morning; 

For ages ye were kissed by parting day ; 
With Time has combated your self-adorning, 

And garnered sterner beauty from the fray ; 
Till at the present time ye stand in splendor, 

And shall continue so unto the end 
As down the course of time your tale ye render, 

And message to the generations send. 

[34] 



I'm sick to death of life so artificial 

Where the city wraps me in its dizzy roar; 
I'm wearied of these things so superficial ; 

I'm yearning for the mountains as of yore. 
I want the deep and silent, lonely valley ; 

I want to see the snow caps high above; 
I want to feel my drooping spirits rally 

Where the giants high aloft their bare fangs 
shove. 



[35] 



IN THE FOREST OF THE MOUNTAINS 

In the forest of the mountains 

Where the tamarack and fir 
Rise to shadow bubbling fountains 

And with gentle breezes stir; 
'Mid the golden light of morning 

Gilding all the world with grace, 
Nature is herself adorning 

With allurements for our race; 

By the silver shining lakes 

Where the brooklets hie them to, 
And the mind in joy awakes 

To the glorious morning hue ; 
By the winding of a river 

That flows to meet the sea — 
Sinuous from Nature's quiver, — 

It is there I long to be: 

Far away from city roar 

And from feverish city strife, 
There in gladness I would soar 

To a sweet and happy life ; 
Finding joy among the mountains 

And within the valleys deep, 
Drinking at the bubbling fountains, 

There by nature sung to sleep ! 



[36] 



There's a peace and plenty found 

That this world can never give ; 
Freed from all discordant sound, 

There in gladness I would live, 
And among the whispering trees 

Live as nature's bosom friend, 
Breathing in the mountain breeze, — 

Dwell where truth and beauty blend. 



[37] 



ARISE! THE DAY IS DAWNING 

Arise! The day is dawning; 
All nature, glittering bright, 
Rolls back the night's black awning, 
Lets in the morning light. 
The cocks are all a-crowing 
And sheep in pasture graze, 
For all the world's a-growing 
With the passing of the days, — 
Growing old and older, 
And wiser, let us pray, 
As generations bolder 
Make appearance for the day. 

Arise ! The day is dawning, 
And sleep no more to-day ; 
The sky her stars is pawning 
For the brightest morning ray. 
The night without travailing 
To new life has given birth 
That soon shall be prevailing 
To the very ends of earth. 
There's a beauty in the morning 
Which ye should not then forego, 
There's the Orient's self-adorning, 
Pearly mist and ruby glow. 



[38] 



Arise! The day is dawning; 
And see the sights I see 
For nature's now a-spawning 
Many things unknown to thee. 
— I see the brooklet sally 
Where water-lilies be, 
Then bicker down the valley 
To the wideness of the sea. 
Then wake ye now, and swiftly rise 
At stroke of Nature's warning, 
To come with me and lift your eyes 
To the majesty of morning. 



[39] 



FALSE GODS 

A copper sunset gilds a western sky, and twi- 
light's hailing from the east, 
A world is steeped in quiet and the song of 
the bird has ceased; 
In the darkening gloom of nightfall to me there 
comes the thought 
Of the years gone by and the years to come, 
and the many things I've sought. 

The tide of my youth has been folly ; false gods 
I have followed long 
Which rapt me and thrilled me and charmed 
me, but always have set me wrong, 
For the gods I had placed before me, to worship 
in hope and adore, 
Were pleasure and fame and fortune, in the 
midst of the world and its roar. 

The coming of age and its wisdom, and the pas- 
sage of youth so dear, 
Have brought me a newer viewpoint that 
grows on me year by year; 
And the gods I had placed before me, to worship 
in hope and adore, 
Have faded into nothing, to rapture me never- 
more. 



[40] 



So while the shadows grow longer, and age 
keeps a-coming on, 
My thoughts go wandering sadly to that 
realm where millions have gone, 
Millions come up from the cradle to live their 
own lives just as I, 
To follow the gods set up from their youth, to 
find them false, and to die. 

And out of it all in conclusion, in the dark and 
the quiet of night, 
The rarest thought that comes to me, that 
seems to give most light, 
That brings me peace and quiet out of the dim 
and the gloom 
And takes the terror away at the thought of 
eternal doom, 

Is one of love and of mercy, and good in the 
Maker of men, 
Who made us in form and in fashion, but 
lacking Divinity's ken ; 
And He and His will we must have for our God, 
to worship in hope, and adore, 
And the end it shall be a partnership, with 
Him on eternity's shore. 



[41] 



A FIRST LOVE 

Last night he held me to his breast 

And whispered love to me, 
While on my lips he gently prest 

The sign of lover's glee. 

My first and only, only love, 

I wonder if he's true ; 
Will his spirit ever hover 

Round me like the morning hue ! 

I could not help but think of him 
And dream the whole night long ; 

And wonder if his love would dim, 
Or cease its trancing song. 

Though the world should crumble round me 
And all things come to naught, 

In his love I'll never fail to see 
The comfort that I sought. 

My love shall be unending, 

And I know his is the same ; 
His love he'll ever keep anew 

And to my heart lay claim. 

Then love is life and meat to me, 

A thing not of the past, 
But like a lighthouse on the sea 

Until our anchor's cast. 
[42] 



THE COIL OF THE SERPENT 

In the glow of youth's first fervor 

I thought to mount the wall 
That leads to glimmering glory, 

For I heard the far famed call 
Of genius beckoning me onward 

To accomplish deeds of might 
And shine through future ages 

As a glowing star of light. 

And straightway I went a-building 

My temple of fame to the sky, 
With the hope it would house me in glory 

Before the hour came to die; 
For I had been filled with ambition 

To hear the applause of the world, 
To be hailed as the leader of nations 

Here where my spirit was hurled. 

I set to work a-founding 

My Utopian temple of fame, 
And labored with might and effort 

To magnify my name; 
Success was mine at the outset 

And flushed with pride I went on 
Up the mountain of glory 

As others before me have gone. 



[43] 



My friends most eagerly sought me, 

Encouraged me on to my best; 
But asked me to champagne dinners 

When my soul was longing for rest. 
Their adulation and blarney 

Worked in upon my soul 
And deadened my ambitions 

Before I had reached my goal. 

Wine with its hypnotic power 

Led me away from my work, 
While woman fairly entranced me 

And caused me my task to shirk ; 
Song kept me a-delaying 

And hindered my daily toil, 
While the hell-serpent kept tightening, 

Tightening his deadly coil. 

And how the years have fled from me! 

God, I am getting old 
Without the realization 

Of my youthful dreams so bold ! 
The darkness comes in upon me 

And shrouds my soul in night, 
While hope is fast receding 

With my boyhood dreams so bright. 

The hell-serpent's coil is tightening, 
With his mighty bands I'm bound, 

And his slimy convolutions 
Keep a-circling me around. 
[44] 



The things which as a boy 
I once had thought to do 

Have faded into nothing 
As this hellish power grew. 

God alone can save me 

From the weakness of my will, 
And pour His soothing graces 

On a wearied soul that's ill: 
Then from these worldly meshes 

To the God in heaven I turn, 
For never was His mercry known 

The penitent to spurn. 



[45] 



THE DESTROYERS 

In the dream of the day's reformer 

The race shall be made again, 
More fair and like the ideal 

Of the sons and daughters of men. 
And as we read their sounding cant, 

Irreverent fancy hears 
The joyless shout of the demagogue 

And the rabble's rumbling jeers. 

We ask with curious wonderings 

If the reason of man has fled 
To the brutish beast in the stubble field 

Where flesh to flesh is wed. 
The theories wild of the doctrinaires 

Float in on the wings of night 
To lead and tempt our troubled souls 

Far away from the land of right. 

Out of the East and out of the West 

They send their shafts of blight, 
By the printed page and the tongues of men 

They would blast the rocks of right. 
No hearth, no home, from their withering hand 

Secure in life serene, 
They mock at all the past has done, 

They mock at the Nazarene. 



[46] 



They are teaching their doctrines everywhere, 

At home and in the school ; 
They call themselves the leaders of men, 

And build for all a rule. 
I see the glint of their lurid flame 

Flash out upon the night 
From a thousand campfires far and wide, 

Burning, burning bright. 

Like a whirlwind they would sweep aside 

Traditions of the past; 
Nothing sacred, nothing divine, 

While their frightful frenzies last: 
Only time can stop their ravings 

Just as the law of man 
Reacts on their marshalled wisdom, 

To revive as best it can. 

They would write their unholy doctrines 

In the statute books of our state, 
And ask us with joy to receive them 

Though we think them more worth our hate ; 
And if in thought, in word or deed 

We dare from their dogmas depart, 
Reactionaries they call us, 

And laugh us to scorn in the mart. 



[47] 



Let us stand our ground and hold them fast 

With reason's rightful hand, 
And hearken not to the whims and wiles 

Of these builders on the sand. 
Let them laugh and scorn and flout if they will, 

Our doctrines and what we do, 
But until they prove their scheme the best 

We'll stand by the tried and true. 



[48] 



ADVERSITY 

Last night I saw my little friend 

All worn and wracked with pain, 
And watched his smiles and tears ablend 

As he welcomed me again. 
I saw the beauty of his soul 

Shine out in solemn splendor, 
With mind still bent on heaven's goal, 

So holy, sweet and tender. 

His was the lot of suffering, 

To pain and sorrow given; 
He tolled it out as the offering 

Of a soul from sin now shriven. 
The wondrous feat of his self control 

I could not help admire; 
'Twas that of a soul still on patrol, 

Awaiting his heart's desire. 

And what was it that bore him up 

In his body's grave distress, 
To drink so deep of fate's grim cup 

Without the least redress? 
'Twas a heart well fixed on the further shore, 

Where he knew he'd find relief 
From the ill that comes as our mortal chore 

To prove our real belief. 



[49] 



I read in his sad and lonely life 

A lesson so brave and true 
That well it might in a world of strife 

Be given to those who do. 
We only get the things worth while, 

The things that count in the end, 
If we meet our trial with pliant smile 

And take what fate may send. 



[50] 



IN THE BEGINNING 

In the beginning He made them from nothing, 

Molded and fashioned each planet and star ; 
They moving along in their orbits 

Without the least friction or jar. 
Out of the chaos He molded order; 

In harmony ruled over all; 
Till from the inanimate matter 

Life came forth at His call. 

Monarch of all creation, 

Man was placed at the head, 
Commissioned by the Creator 

To rule the world in His stead; 
Like unto even Jehovah 

Molded and fashioned in form, 
Guided by the Almighty 

To meet and brave every storm. 

Thou hadst made him free to act wrongly, 

Free will was given to him; 
And scarcely had he disobeyed Thee 

When the light which shone round him grew 
dim, — 
Cast out from the garden of Eden, 

Condemned to suffer and toil, 
With blighted mind and will weakened, 

Entwined by the hell-serpent's coil, 

[51] 



Till Thou in Thy goodness and wisdom 

Sent Thine only begotten Son 
To bring man back from his error, 

That heaven again might be won. 
And the price ! My God, it was awful ! 

The picture will ever remain 
While the thought of Thine infinite mercy 

I shall ever and ever retain. 

What more couldst Thou do for Thy creature! 

Thyself Thou hast given to him. 
Should not man, then, in deepest thanksgiving 

Thy praise everlastingly hymn ! 
To know Thou art infinite goodness 

Above and beyond human ken 
Should of itself be sufficient 

For the sons and the daughters of men. 

Then let Thy grace always be with us, 

While the fruit of Thy sacrificed Son 
Will lead us, and wrap us, and thrill us 

Till this pilgrimage here shall be done. 
And when from Thy path we may wander, 

With sin and abasement to roam, 
Recall us ! My God ! Oh, recall us ! 

Lest we suffer the loss of our home. 



[52] 



THE TRIANGLE 

At the fiat of creation's Master, when first 
upon this world I came, — 

A quivering chunk of human flesh endowed with 
soul immortal, 

In matter made as animal unreasoning, 

Molded and fashioned in form to likeness of the 
Creator, — 

I started down life's highway 

Encouraged by the paeans of hosts of angels, 

For did that power do no more in ages past or 
yet to come 

But bring me forth from out a land of nothing- 
ness, — 

A spirit that shall never die, caged in flesh 
ephemeral, — 

'Twere proof enough that He were power om- 
nipotent. 

All the court of heaven were there in num- 
bers countless ; 
Legion upon legion of angels and arch-angels, 
Thrones and dominations, virtues, principali- 
ties and powers, 
Cherubim and seraphim, together with the hosts 

of sainted dead, 
All in one mighty voice they bade me Godspeed. 
And so from out the eternal shores I came 
Trailing clouds of glory fresh from God. 
[53] 



The babbling babe becomes a child, the sweet- 
est age of all 
In man's short, fleeting span of life. 
O happy childish innocence! That thou 

couldst persevere 
Within the human heart unto the end! 
Then what a joy and happiness secure our little 

part would be 
Upon this stage, the world, where actors come 

and go, 
And shall, to the last syllable of recorded time ; 
But no ! The all-wise Creator has decreed it 

sha'n't be so, 
For He would have us tried in conflict with the 

spirit of evil 
And prove our worth and merit, receiving from 

His gracious hands 
Life eternal in the kingdom of perpetual light. 

So in the course of law divine, childish inno- 
cence, 

Together with the guileless blush of youth, must 
fade away 

And lose itself within the twilight zone of hazy 
memory, 

Leaving behind faint traces as a binding chain 

To hold us in the ranks when battles rage, and 

Role of victor seems so far away ; 

The child becomes a man. 

[54] 



Last age of all and greatest, 
Traversing life's triangle majestically we move 
From point to point, mere instants in duration 
With reference to before and after. 
And so it goes, the three angles of life, 
Infancy, Childhood, then the Age of Might, 
When one must do or leave undone 
The task prescribed from the eternal throne. 

See then, lonely Pilgrim, since 'tis given to 
thee 

To wend thy way along this vale of life, 

Thou buildest well and strong, 

Not on the fleeting sands of ever changing time, 

Lest storms of passion come and wash away ; 

But rather build thou high and firm 

Upon the mighty rock of faith, 

And let thy structure be full ribbed with will of 
iron. 

So bear up, move along, however dark the pros- 
pect! 

For 'tis written that hope shall lead thee 

And charity smooth the way 

As over this mysterious, yea, marvellous triangle 

Thou dost move, 

Until the Figure be completed, and thou take 

Thy chamber in the silent halls of death. 



[55] 



WHAT THINKEST THOU? 

Art thou born to live on earth, 
Seeking only joy and mirth, 
Spend thy years in game and song 
Where thou canst not tarry long? 
— Is thy talent given to spend, 
Not where paths of duty blend, 
But amid the " madding crowd " 
Where the lofty and the proud 
Sear their souls with noise and din 
Of a world so steeped in sin ? 

What thinkest thou? 

Is it best to spend thy years 
Laughing in a vale of tears, 
Jesting much where millions weep, 
From the toil of others reap 
What thou shouldst have really earned 
When thy heart with passion burned 
For the gods of brick and stone, 
Seeking fortune for thy own ? — 
Should things passing be thy end, 
And thou to gods of matter bend? 

What thinkest thou? 



[56] 



Wert thou made to mass up wealth, 
Sacrificing even health 
For the scarce but gaudy gold, 
Seeking it till thou art old, 
Wanting fortune for thine own, 
And of all the world alone 
Place thy hope in things of earth — 
Some forbidden from thy birth — 
Till the fates will end it all 
And shall come thy judgment call? 

What thinkest thou? 

Is there nothing else in life 
Thou canst find amidst the strife 
On our little stage, — the world 
Where man's craving soul was hurled 
To battle for the truth and right 
Until the closing in of night, 
When hated death must end it all 
And thou shalt hear the judgment call? 
— Hast thou ever nothing done 
To save thee when thy course is run? 

What thinkest thou? 



[57] 



MEDITATION 

I sat me down beside a stream, lonely and dis- 
consolate, 

For I had come from the land of those I love 

Into a strange country afar 

To seek my fortune. 

Unknown faces and new, 

Strange tongues, and customs odd, 

Affected me and made me long for my native 
land. 

Impressed with my own insignificance 

By this newer knowledge of the wideness of the 
world, 

Almost bent to despair, I, who once had been so 
self-opinionated, 

Came to this running stream 

For consolation from nature. 

And in the running stream, the sigh of breeze, 

and song of bird, 
The hills outlined against a sky of blue, 
The sun now wading deep through rifts of cloud, 
Bursting forth anew to send his piercing shafts 

of light 
And gild some lonely dell, or cast a halo round 

some peasant's hut, 
The jangling cowbells in the pasture near, 
And bark of farmer's dog, — 
All this and more 

[58] 



Did sing to me a soothing melody 
The like of which no master ever drew 
From strings of harp or cast in words of speech 
Or threw with brush and colors on a canvas 

stretched, 
For it was weft of Him, the Arch-Master of 

them all, 
Who merely paint or sing or play in semblance 

of His work. 

God! Only Thine own ideal could have been 
A model for such a wondrous work of genius 
As we, Thy creatures, see around about us, 
But seldom 'preciate, so rapt we are 
In selfish gain and lust. 
'Twas in this mighty master-work of Thine 
I learned a lesson deep for words to tell. 

Fool ! That thou shouldst yearn and pine 
For scenes of old, 
And friends that once were thine, 
When all the world's ablaze with glory, — 
Glory of the dawn and sunset, 
The picturesque, the beautiful, and grand, 
Portrayed all in nature's studio 
For thee, the connoisseur who shall be, 
If thou wouldst but cast from off thine eyes 
The glasses colored by thine own infirmity of 
soul. 

[59] 



Nature in whatever phase 
Is never sad or grieving, 
But only the contents of thy mind do make 

it so, 
And thou must reconstruct thy thought 
To the plans of nature and of nature's God, 
And follow down the course decreed for thee 
From out eternal shores, 

As steady to the law as nature's forces move, 
And peace thine own shall be. 



[60] 














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